Gothic Tango
by Andia
Summary: The War against Voldemort has ended...the golden boy disappears, and who should find him but....DMHP SLASH!
1. Yeah, so

Title- Gothic Tango  
  
Rating- PG13 for some nasty language and slash  
  
Genre- Romance/Drama  
  
Pairings- Draco/Harry, Sirius/Remus, Sirius/Severus (mentioned)  
  
Post Order of the Phoenix  
  
Warning for- Slash, a more "dark" feeling to things.  
  
Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters (unfortunately.). I also do not own the songs "Death is in love with us" (HIM), "Don't cry for me Argentina" (Evita, sung by Madonna), the musical Evita (very good movie too!), nor "You must love me" (Also Evita, sung by Madonna). If I left anything out, remind me please!  
  
Oh, and do review for me, please. It's a few seconds of your time, and I don't mine flames (as long as you have a reason for posting one).  
  
If you'd like the full lyric to the songs or the mp3, I'd be happy to send them to you through email.  
  
So, why am I reposting this whole Fanfic though? Cause I only got three reviews! ( They were very nice reviews! But..yeah..I'd like more..  
  
Ickle-Wicca-girl - it's my fave too, lol! But so glad you like it.  
  
Ed- Four words; "Cut back the dosage". Hehehe..and the movie wasn't scary!  
  
Chara1- sure thing. 


	2. Broken Portkeys

A/N- Hey everyone! Yet another Harry Potter Fanfic of mine! Hehehe.Have fun! I know the first chapter is really short, but the second is longer, promise!  
  
Chapter One- Pouring Rain and Broken Portkeys  
  
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No, it couldn't be.  
  
Rain poured from the heavens, merciless and cruel. The field had become a span of mud and puddles, nothing more, and one could get stuck walking through it. Mist hung in the air, the humidity from the rain and heat like a choking blanket. Oak trees near by whispered in the wind, their great branches bent away from the grayed heavens. It was brighter out than the sunniest of days, but a dark aura hung over the area. Like a cloud was descending upon it to snatch away all life.  
  
Or maybe it already had.  
  
A boy, almost a man, struggled to keep moving. His tennis shoes, worn with age, got caught in the mud almost every minute. His glasses were long gone, broken beyond repair. Then again, there was that spell Hermione taught him.what was it? Oh well, didn't matter now.  
  
He slipped, hitting the ground hard. His cheek burned, despite he had fallen on mostly wet grass and mud. Lightning flashed somewhere above, fallowed by an earsplitting roar of thunder. He pushed himself up, groaning with the ache in his arms, but began running again. There was a horrid knick in his side, and his lung burned.  
  
He wasn't going to make it.  
  
Voices sounded behind him, harsh and loud. Curses, both verbal and magical, where thrown his way as the Death eaters continued after him. Who would have though that after he defeated Voldemort, he'd still be in danger? Everyone always talked off a giant battle, something glorious where both sides stood against the other. But no, Harry Potter faced the dark lord alone, and now he was going to die.  
  
Goddamn irony.  
  
He saw the forest before him, trees struggling against the winds, and his hope was renewed. The portkey he left there was only a bit away. If he could reach it.  
  
The tree branches whipped wildly around him, as if to throw him back to the death eaters, and a quick glance behind his back showed Harry that they weren't very far behind anyway. He ran desperately, knowing he was so close.if only he could reach out a bit farther.  
  
There! An old shoe sat abandon among the roots of an old oak tree, innocent. He slid towards it as though sliding into home base, grabbing it in his right hand. Any moment he expected the familiar tug that always made him sick, to land safely somewhere within the Hogwarts grounds. Any minute now.  
  
It wasn't working. Why the hell wasn't it working?! Harry looked at the thing, making sure it was his old boot- same worn leather, tear where the big toes should have been. He shook it vigorously, hoping it would work.  
  
No such luck.  
  
He glanced up, realizing the death eater were almost upon him. This wasn't good, this so wasn't good. He had expected to die fighting Voldemort, was prepared for it, but now that he had won.  
  
He looked up into the eyes of a faceless white mask, and prepared to die.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
When Minerva McGonagall found Severus Snape, she was more frightened than she had been in years. True, they fought each other ruthlessly, but it was only for game. Their rivalry brought out the spirit in both of them after having seen far too many battles in their long life times. She had taught Severus in her first few years of teaching at Hogwarts, and ever since had trusted him completely.  
  
And one must admit it would be frightening to find him curled up on the floor of his study, clutching his upper arm and whimpering uncharacteristically.  
  
She was lucky to have found him, for any later and Poppy's healing potions wouldn't have done anything for Severus. She then fallowed Dumbledore to check upon the Slytherins, only to find many of the seventh and sixth years in similar states. The younger years were trying to cure them, try to protect their own, but to no avail. They easily gave up the fight, moving back to the dorms as teachers created stretchers for them all.  
  
Malfoy, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be the only ones not affected, much to everyone's surprise. They quickly helped the teachers move their friends, before going back to defend the younger students. Always trust a Slytherin to protect another Slytherin.  
  
Healing potions were given to all, though it was far into the afternoon when all the moans died down. The teachers returned to their lounge, with the exception of Snape and Pomfery of course, and collapsed into their favorite chairs. What could have caused this? Had Voldemort caused a massacre again? Was something wrong?  
  
That was when Harry's portkey decided to work, and he came crashing down from the ceiling onto the table.  
  
News of Voldemort's defeat came nearly two weeks after it had actually happened. The Wizard world rejoiced as they had nearly sixteen years before, but were still skeptical. Would the Dark Lord rise again? Why had it taken so long for someone notice? Who had killed him? Was it Dumbledore, or the Boy-who-lived?  
  
No one knew, but no one really cared. They were thankful for the defeat, but with Dumbledore refusing to comment and the golden boy Harry Potter gone without a trace, there was never closure on the defeat.  
  
Death eaters were rounded up and placed in Azkaban until the last mark faded. Serverus Snape returned to his teaching position at Hogwarts as his title was cleared, and received The First Order of Merlin for his service to the side of light. The "Children of Voldemort" were excused after much counseling. Many did not have families to return to.  
  
But all in all, there was a happy ending. For everyone.  
  
For now. 


	3. The Red Heel

Title- Gothic Tango  
  
Rating- Pg13 for now  
  
Genre- Romance/Drama  
  
Warning for- some cursing, slash, more "dark" feel to it.  
  
Pairing- Draco/Harry  
  
Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter, nor the HIM song "Death is in love with us". Wish I did, but I don't *pout*.  
  
Chapter Two- The Red Heel  
  
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The night club was situated on a rather dark and musty alley way, its bright neon sign the only luminance against the night. The Red Heel. Its entrance was a plain metal door, nothing unusual. Muggle owned and run by a Squib that had no interest in causing trouble. The only trouble the Red Heel had ever had was rumors of the bar tender letting minors drink. But, there was no proof.  
  
But Draco Malfoy took no chances. Keeping one hand in his pocket, tightly wrapped around his wand, he entered the bar. His trench coat made blending into the shadows easy, but his pale skin and blond hair did not. Hopefully he wouldn't be recognized here, assuming there were no wizards around.  
  
The lighting wasn't the best, but he could see almost completely in the dark due to training after the war. A plain bar counter sat against the south side, lit by neon green and red lights that reminded him of bad Christmas decorations. Twenty or so tables sat in the middle of the floor, clustered around the few booths so that there was some dancing space before the small stage in the north east corner.  
  
Currently, the only noise was a dull chatter and light jazz music pouring from the ceiling speakers. There were instruments set up on the stage, which made him guess that a band was about to perform. It was still early yet, so there were very few customers.  
  
The entire place stank of liquor and urine, and there was a suspicious dark mark on the wood near the bar.  
  
He took a seat at the bar, innocently asking for a Vodka Colin from the bar tender after presenting his ID. A few seats down, a woman with make up caked on her face glanced his way, clearly taking interest in him. Draco groaned softly as she stood up and starting making her way towards him. Please not today, not now.  
  
"Hey sweetie, here alone?"  
  
He smiled up at the woman, allowing Malfoy charm and his dazzling looks to win her over. The woman was thin, probably anorexic even now. She wasn't young by any means- her hair was a mess of gray-dyed-orange curls and she had slapped on tons of eye shadow and powder to hide wrinkles. She was clad in a skin tight pink dress with a low cut that allowed one to see her ribs and sagging breasts should one get the urge to look down.  
  
Mentally gagging, he pretended to listen to her introduce herself, but was more interested in the drink the bar tender just handed him. Her voice was annoying, like a chirping bird distressed because it was stuck in a lawn mower or something. Though the young Malfoy would not admit to knowing what such a primitive muggle device was.  
  
After a few minutes of one sided conversation with the woman, he grew thoroughly annoyed, and began to drop hints that he wanted to be alone for the night. But, this woman's make up obviously poisoned her brain. After a few moments, he politely got up and left, taking a booth seat.  
  
She fallowed.  
  
"Look, Ms."  
  
"Carlson, but you can call me Cindy, Hun."  
  
"Ms. Carlson. Your company has been most enjoyable, but-"  
  
He was cut off by cheers from the bar patrons as the band began to take the stage. Cindy joined in with them, leaving Draco a moments "peace". The band was composed of mostly young guys, with an exception of the female bass player. The drums player was bald, but everyone was fairly ordinary looking. They must have sounded good to get so many fans in the bar.  
  
And then his eyes found the singer.  
  
Harry-Fucking-Potter, dressed in plain black muggle jeans and a black silk shirt took a spot behind the mike, grabbing it. His green eyes showed vibrantly, uninhibited by glasses. His skin was still a mocha colored tan from years in the quidditch pitch. On the stage, preparing to sing for everyone, he nearly glowed. He was fucking glowing!  
  
Draco felt his heart ram against his rib cage as the song began, base and guitar in simple harmony with the drum beat. And then he began to sing.  
  
"I know it hurts too much  
  
I know that you're scared  
  
I know you're running out of trust  
  
Wishing you were dead  
  
In your misery  
  
You're not alone  
  
So come share your tears with me  
  
And witness it all go wrong  
  
I know it and I feel it  
  
Just as well as you do, Honey  
  
It's not our fault if death's in love with us oh oh  
  
It's not our fault if the reaper holds our hearts  
  
41+66.6 = our loss  
  
We're breathing only to fade away  
  
We're running just to get caught  
  
What love's lies blessed?  
  
What love's light cursed?  
  
Just fear for the best  
  
And hope for our worst  
  
I know it and I feel it  
  
Just as well as you do, Honey  
  
It's not our fault if death's in love with us oh oh  
  
It's not our fault if the reaper holds our hearts  
  
Death's in love with us oh oh  
  
The Reaper holds our hearts oh oh  
  
Death's in love with us oh oh  
  
And the Reaper holds our hearts oh oh" {1}  
  
}As the base and guitar part slowed and quieted for the middle of the song, Harry's eyes took to glancing around the room. Draco sunk back into his seat, a strange primitive fear making him believe that if his eyes met Harry's, he'd be trapped in them forever. Everyone else was totally captivated by the performance so far. Cindy had stopped trying to molest him since it started.  
  
But despite his troubles, their eyes met and held. Draco felt his façade slip, and his wonder become evident upon his face. Harry's emerald orbs widened in shock. They stood frozen, staring, to the point where the band began to worry because Harry was to have starting singing by now. But to the two wizards, nothing else was there but the piercing gaze of the other.  
  
And then the boy-who-lived toppled to the ground in front of the stage, unconscious.  
  
A/N- That's the HIM song I mentioned. If anyone would like the full lyrics and/or the mp3, ask for it in the reviews (now you have to review, lol). Sorry if this chapter was a little short. Because this seems popular right now, I'll let you decide what happens in the next chapters.  
  
Harry wakes up and Draco is still there. Draco leaves, and Harry goes looking for him. Someone else shows up. Or. You can make something up! 


	4. Leaving

Hey again everyone.

I'm so sorry it took me so long to update.  But hey, I did…consider it my holiday gift for all of you.  

Wolfen-alysha-draco-dragon- I'll email you the size of the file and wait for your reply as soon as I    upload the song to my computer.  

Jes- Thanks!

Makalani Astral- He's just a singer in the muggle world since he left the Wizard world after he beat Voldie.  The Quidditch thing was from when he was in school and played for Gryffindor. 

And thanks Akai Hitomi, BratPrincess-187, rach, Emeline, and hersheyhaven!   

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There was a plain look of worry on the woman bass player's face as Draco cautiously carried the limp Potter to a couch in the backroom.  Harry's skin was pale to begin with, but it was flustered and clammy from the lights and probably the shock.  Why he had fainted was anyone's guess, but there was a deep sense of guilt in the boy's childhood rival's mind.  He had a distinct feeling that the two of them seeing each other had something to do with Harry collapsing.

He set him down on the worn brown couch, and was quickly pushed out of the way by Harry's band mates.  They swarmed around him, so Draco could only catch a glimpse of the black silk shirt Harry wore.  He leaned back against the wall, fishing a cigarette and lighter from his coat pocket.  He clicked the lighter on, holding his hand above the flame.  His eyes moved away from Potter.  He realized he left his unfinished drink back on his table.

Maybe he should go back to get it…

"Harry?  Oh come on, wake up."

Stupid Potter…

"This has to be the first time he's slept in months, maybe his mind just shut down."

Oh….

"I wouldn't be surprised."

Hm….

"Why hasn't he been sleeping?"

Their eyes focused on Draco, even those of the drummer as he fixed a wet towel on Harry's forehead.  He raised an eyebrow, giving them the questioning-but-dead-serious Malfoy look.  It seemed to work, for their weird looked disappeared, and they recognized his concern.  Wait, concern?  What concern?  Like he cared for that scar-faced-four-eyed-golden-boy…

"He ain't been sleeping."  Answered the drummer, his Scottish accent ringing clear even through the similar British ones.  "Something nasty 'bout his dreams.  We don't know what's been causing 'em."  Draco nodded his head- that was understandable.  He too had those dreams, though he had to wonder whether Harry had similar ones…

"Sounds like him.  Bastard always had something off with him."  He ignored their stares, taking a long breath of the cigarette before pulling it from his lips.  A slightly disgusted look crossed his face, and he closed his eyes.  You never could find good cigarettes on this side of London.  With a slight sigh, he pushed off the wall and head back towards the entrance to the main bar.  If he was lucky, he might be able to get to Diagon alley before the real weirdoes came out.

"Malfoy!"

Guess not.  He glanced over his shoulders, meeting the dazzling green eyes of the boy savior.  Well…Harry wasn't really a boy anymore.  And when the hell did he begin calling him Harry?!  Silencing the thoughts in his head, he turned around and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand.  A bit of ash fell off the end of his cigarette.

"I come to find a good drink and a night to relax, and who should show up?  God, right when I was trying to escape all the talk of you."  He looked up, and saw a flash of something in Harry's eyes, but it was gone before he could recognize it.  So Draco ignored it, and glared at the golden boy.  Harry glared back.

"Um…is someone gonna explain, or are we gonna sit here all night?"

It was the guitarist, and his little comment cause one pair of green and one pair of gray eyes to direct their glares at him.  The man backed up a few steps, as did the rest of the band members.  At least they weren't dumb.  Malfoy turned his eyes back to Potter.  He knew what had to be done.  He didn't want to do it, but if he went back and left the golden boy here…as tempting as it was…

"Go home, get your things."  His voice was colder than he expected it would be.  Perhaps he was losing his touch if he was having a hard time controlling every aspect of his life.  It was bloody Potter's fault, it had to be.  The arrogant bastard had to be the cause of his distraction.  And yet there was a little voice in the back of his head asking him why exactly he was distracted by Potter.  "Be back in an hour.  Pack everything.  You won't get a chance to come back for anything."

He turned, and walked calmly back towards the bar room.  He could feel the green eyes of his arch rival at his back, as well as the curious stares of the band members.  A headache was beginning to form, and there was a pounding at the back of his eyes.  He allowed the door to slam shut, and walked back over to his table.  He sat down, tightening his coat, and drank the remains of his liquor quickly.  He ground the cigarette to its death in the ash tray.  He ran his hand through his hair.

And he waited.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was exactly one hour and twenty three minutes when Harry pushed his way through the front door of the bar and started his way over to where Draco sat.  He had exchanged his performance outfit for a pair of dark jeans and a dark red sweater.  He had on a light gray trench coat to protect him from the London weather as well.  There were no signs of bag on him, but Draco clearly saw the wood of Harry's wand sticking out of the coat pocket.  But he said nothing, instead standing.

"Come on."  The headache had disappeared after a few moments of peace and quiet, but he could feel it returning.  He didn't want to do this, not tonight of all nights.  But of course fate didn't like the young Malfoy very much.  And it loved torturing him on this day.  "We've got to get to the Leaky Cauldron before Tom closes up for the night."

Harry pressed his lips together tightly.  He wanted to ask why he had to go with Draco, but he knew why.   He knew this day would come.  He wanted to run from here, to run back to his empty apartment down the alley and curl up in a corner by the kitchen stove- the only area of any warmth.  He wanted to hit Malfoy, wanted to throw him to the floor and let his anger out.

Instead, he fallowed Draco silently from the bar, waving weakly to his band mates.  He fallowed his rival out into the rain, and never looked back.

Draco led them back towards the main street, and up to the side of an expensive looking car.  Upon inspection, he saw a small A6 on the back- an Audi A6, in dark navy.  He raised one eyebrow, and suddenly felt a little embarrassed standing next to the expensive car in his hole-in-the-pocket coat and old sneakers.  He began to wonder if this was what Ron felt like, but he cast the thought from his mind instantly.  There was nothing shameful about not having enough money.

"Hurry up before you catch a cold, Potter." 

The car ride was almost peaceful.  Accepts for the small fact that Draco drove like a maniac on speed.  So by the time they had stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron, Harry wasn't quite aware that they had stopped at all.  He was still having a difficult time breathing, and his fingers had dug themselves into the gray leather interior.  He stared wide eyed out the window in complete shock.  

"Something wrong Potter?"  There was a wide grin on Draco's face as he looked over at the stunned golden boy.  Actually, Harry looked kind of cute with his eyes that wide and his mouth hanging open just slightly.  Of course, the terrified look was never too attractive to Draco.  Nor would he admit that Potter was cute.

"Besides the fact you're fucking insane!  And you nearly crashed into that car at the intersection and killed us!  Or perhaps because you fucking insane!"

"You said that one already."  The two stepped from the car, and Draco walked over to join him.  "Do you happen to have a cloak on you?"

"A cloak?"

"Yeah, the sort of robe you through over your shoulders and it has a hood?"

"I bloody know what it is!  And no."

Draco rolls his eyes, walking up to the boy wonder.  His hands reached out, grabbing the openings of the coat and almost tearing it off of Harry.  A word of protest slipped from Harry's lips, and a blush spread across his cheeks.  Sudden images of Draco tearing off his clothes and pushing him to the ground filled Harry's head.  He pushed the nasty demons from his thoughts, but the little snickering they let out left him feeling like those thoughts would come back.

And as much as his thoughts wanted Draco to do just that, the blonde instead turned back to the car and tossed Harry's coat into the back seat.  He then leaned over, digging for something in a small duffle back on the floor.  This, of course, gave Harry a very clear view of Draco's back end.

The blush increased.

Draco looked up.

"Nice view Potter?"  The next moment some black fabric was thrown over his head, and Harry struggled to remove it.  He pulled the cloak down, only to look up at a smirking Malfoy.  Damn it all.  With a small frown, Harry fastened the cloak around his neck and pulled the hood up.  The fastenings were silver- pure and polished- and the fabric was something silky.  It sent shivers up his back as it planted butterfly kisses onto his neck.  It smelled strongly of vanilla and mint.

They entered the Leaky Cauldron in silence, and Harry was left standing awkwardly at the door as Draco went over to talk to Tom.  He received a few stray glances, but luckily the cloak hid his face, so the eyes went wandering away.  A few moments later Draco returned, and led him towards the stairs.  He fallowed behind Malfoy almost obediently until they reached number seven.  Draco held the door open for him.

"Unfortunately, all the other rooms are full."  Harry walked into the small room, spotting two beds and a small table, plus the door off to the side which led to the bathroom.  The table was covered with a plate of still steaming steak and vegetables, and there was a pitcher of pumpkin juice beside it.  "As long as you don't snore, I suppose I'll let you stay in here with me.  Go eat."

Harry removed the cloak, setting it delicately on one of the beds.  Draco removed his coat, revealing a dark blue shirt and white pants, and he moved to take off his shoes.  Harry treaded silently over to the table, standing there for a moment before sitting down.  Something deep in his stomach sent a chill up his spine, but it had nothing to do with hunger.  Sure, he hadn't eaten a full meal in a while, but…

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you…"

"Whatever…"

A/N- I made a few adjustments to this chapter, but I'm afraid it still sucks…oh well…


	5. Harmless Flirt

A/N- *Andia laughs nervously* Okay okay, I know my last chapter made no sense at all and was really really bad *blush*.  I'll go back and fix it later.  And there are some things in this chapter which should clear those up.  So…I hope you like it…

Draco had gone to bed in his jeans, merely because he didn't fancy the idea of stripping down to his boxers in front of Harry-fucking-Potter.  But he was beginning to realize that the people who said jeans were uncomfortable to sleep in had a good point.  Harry had changed into a loose pair of pajama pants- which weren't in the best quality, but by the looks of it none of Harry's clothes were- in the bathroom.  And it caused Draco to partially admit that Potter was a bit brighter than he was at some things.

Not like he'd bloody admit it out loud.

So as soon as he heard the gentle snore from the bed next to his, he snuck into the bathroom to change.  He'd have to get up before Harry, just so the brunette wouldn't notice and comment on it.  He really didn't think he could handle any smart remarks from him, especially at this time of the year.

But even now, comfortable and exhausted, his mind would not let him sleep.  He began to notice things now that his eyes were adjusted to the dark, and he could see almost every detail of the room around him.  He did not want to remain awake- instead he wanted to curl up in a tiny ball of warmth, and pretend things were the way they used to be when he was back in school.  But the sanctuaries of his school days were long gone.

Since a young age Draco knew his father expected him to honor the Malfoy name and receive the Dark Mark when he was ready.  And he prided himself in it, prided himself in thinking that one day he and his father would stand smugly next to the ruler of the world.  He believed it with his very heart and though he really didn't care about muggles or mudbloods he pretended all the same.  He lived his life on the top of the world- rich, powerful, and with a bright future ahead of him.

But when Potter battled Voldemort for the last time and defeated him, everything changed.

The Death eaters were thrown into chaos as their master fell.  Some made deals with the Ministry of Magic to exchange names for protection.  Some claimed to be under the influence of the Imperius curse, or were forced to do things because Voldemort had their loved ones.  Others were hunted down one by one and sent to Azkaban.  Some committed suicide rather than be caught.

He did not want to remember it, but it surfaced each night to torture him.  The image of his mother, his beautiful and caring mother, lying limp across the pine floors of the study room.  He saw his father crazed beyond help bending over her and then reaching for Draco with his wand out.  He was ranting, saying how he would not let the Malfoys end up as fugitives.  And then Draco ran, fleeing for his life.

When he returned to the manor, soaked from head to toe in rain, he found his dead father cradling his mother, with his wand a few feet away.  The Death Eater had performed the Killing curse upon his wife and upon himself.  Leaving Draco alone in the giant manor to care for himself after the Ministry took away the bodies.

And who should he find on this seventh year anniversary but Harry Potter.  The Savior of the World who had disappeared without finishing his seventh year after the battle.  As soon as he saw Harry performing in that tiny little bar stage, he knew Destiny had set its trap on him.  If he returned to the Wizard world without Potter, someone would find out and he would no longer be trusted after spending so many years fighting off the condemning of being a suspected dark wizard.  He knew he would have to bring Potter back with him and keep him safe until he could deliver him to his superior.

He did not like this at all.  It caused a cold feeling in the depth of his stomach, as though he knew something would go wrong.  It always did.  And yet, his memories strayed for once from his dead parents to something else.  An image of Harry on that tiny stage, and the way he glimmered as though lit from within.

Not a good thought.  Not a good thought.  Damn it, why wouldn't it go away?!

He heard it, a low sound from his right.  Whimpering, small and silent cries.  He turned over onto his side, silver eyes moving over the pale back of his foe.  Harry was shaking, almost violently, but his whimpers were those of a lost child.  He didn't have to see to know that he was crying, but he wondered it Harry was awake.  The sobs were growing louder, but never went beyond a small murmur.

Draco sigh, knowing that his …., whatever was left of it, would not let him ignore this.  He rolled over to the edge of the bed and slowly stood, wobbling slightly as the blood rushed between his legs and head.  He swayed his way over to Harry's bed, and stood there debating for a moment.  He remembered the comment about Harry not getting much sleep and decided it wouldn't be a good thing to wake him now.

With another sigh of defeat, he gently slid beneath the covers of Harry's bed, and slid his arms around Harry's waist.  Almost instantly the moans died down, but Draco spooned the boy against him anyway.  His back was warm against his chest, almost feverish and slipper with sweat, but it wasn't too unpleasant.  He settled his head upon Harry's shoulder softly, and just prayed that the boy was indeed asleep.  And as his fingers swept across Harry's chest by accident, there was a small shiver that worked its way from his neck to the back of his spine.

Please, please let him wake up before Harry….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Harry awoke, there was a screaming in the back of his mind that something was not quite right.  He was lying on rough sheets, but they were much nicer than the ones he had at home.  His body was surrounded by that morning warm which made one cling to the bed even though a glorious day awaited them.  But there was something else.  He was pressed to something, something that was usually not in his bed…

His body tensed, and he found his eyes open to look upon the broad surface of an almost white chest.  This was not good, this was so not good.  Had he gotten drunk last night?  He never got drunk…and he never slept with anyone.  Period.  End of Sentence.  His mind raced, trying to remember what he had done when it came to him- Draco Malfoy, the Red Heel, the Leaky Cauldron.  

He allowed his eyes to travel upwards, and watched Draco as though his sleeping face would tell him something.  Well…he did look really good asleep.  His face wasn't nearly as harsh, nor did he have that constantly exhausted look to him.  The sunlight that was streaming through the windows made his hair look more golden than silver and his skin looked even more like carved ivory.  Though thousands of questions ran through his head to guess why Draco was lying next to him, but he was content looking up at that face.

Which led him to another discovery.  Both boys' lower regions were pressed tightly together, and though there was nothing embarrassing at the moment there was about to be.

'Oh shit, oh shit…'  A look of panic and a blush took over Harry's face faster then he could comprehend what that meant.  He was about to squirm his way out of Draco's arms, but he realized it would wake the blond up.  Not good.  Not good.  His eyes darted around, looking for some sort of escape, but he knew there was none.  He'd have to wake the blond up, and if his hormones decided to wake up as well…Why did he have to be found by the Slytherin-bloody-sex-god?!  Okay, don't repeat that.  Thinking of sex is not a good idea right now.

Closing his eyes tightly, Harry resorted to his last idea.  'Think unsexy thoughts, unsexy thoughts.  Uh…Ron and Hermione making out!  Not strong enough.  Voldemort in a thong…ew, now I'm going to be sick…'  But, problem almost solved, he decided he might want to try falling asleep again.  A nightmare would definitely take away the problem, right?

A pair of silver eyes opened slowly, clouded by sleep, and there was a lazy grin on their owner's face.  He looked down upon Harry, watching the blush and how tightly the boy was closing his eyes, and soon realized why.  If anything his grin grew wider.  Pretending he was still asleep, he wrapped his legs firmly around Harry's and brought certain sections of their anatomy closer.  His amusement grew at the rapidly reddening blush and the small whimper that it derived.

'Ah, I might have to do this more often.'  He thought to himself, closing his eyes once again.  Unconsciously wrapping his arms around Harry, he surrendered to the morning warmth and fell back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Harry awoke next, a strong scent of fresh breakfast almost instantly jolted his dazed mind almost instantly to full alert.  He sat up, allowing a breeze of cold air to hit his chest, a looked around.  There was breakfast set for two on the small table, but someone had already eaten their share.  Draco was nowhere in sight, but the trunk at the foot of his bed was open and he could hear the sound of a shower running.  The curtains were still closed, but Harry could hear the noise of morning shoppers down in Diagon alley along with the mild chatter from downstairs which leaked through the floor.

"Sorry I didn't wait for you."  Harry glanced up, and instantly glanced down again.  Draco was standing at the door to the bathroom, steam flowing out around him in thick clouds, in nothing but those sort-of-fluffy towels all inns and hotels gave you.  His hair was plastered to his forehead, and because the towel was so small it only covered certain areas- leaving Draco's chest and legs bare for the world to see.

'Not again…'

Draco smirked as he saw the blush once again take over Harry's face.  It was amusing in a way to see his rival like that.  Well, Harry wasn't really a rival anymore.  They hadn't seen each other in seven years- it was sort of hard to get back in the routine of bothering each other after so long.  He began to notice that Harry didn't seem to want to fight either.  And if the blush said anything, Harry was thinking of other things besides fighting.

The smirk grew wider, and Draco decided to have a little fun with this.  Walking over to his trunk, he rummaged through it until he could find the clothes he planned to wear for today.  Then, turning his back to Harry and the rest of the room, he let the towel drop.  He didn't need to look over his shoulder to know Harry was staring at him, and Draco began his show.  He was half way into his leather pants when he heard Harry scrambling to get to the bathroom.

"Don't you want breakfast?"  He called, fastening the last of the bone buttons of his white cotton shirt.  He could here a shaky reply that Harry would get it later.  He shrugged, walking over and grabbing a few grapes from the table and took a seat on the bed.  They had a lot to do today…

Harry leaned back against the cool tile of the shower as the coldest water he could get poured down on him.  It wasn't helping that the other boy was his childhood rival, but why did it have to be Draco of all people to find him?  And why the heck was Draco flirting with him.  It was almost if…Harry shook his head.  Of course not, that couldn't be it, no matter how much he wished.

He grabbed his clothes when he was finished, ignoring Draco's leers, and changed in the bathroom.  He had to admit that his black pants and plain button up blue shirt weren't as posh as Draco's, but it was one of his performing outfits so it didn't look as ragged as everything else he owned.  He picked up Draco's pajama bottoms from the bathroom, since the blond had spent so much time torturing him that he had left them there.  The same scent of vanilla and mint swarmed over his senses along with something else- cigarette smoke.  He realized that he had seen Draco smoke the night before.  

'Wizards really don't have to worry about things like cancer, do they?'  He walked out of the bathroom to find Draco stretched out over his bed.  For a moment Harry thought he was asleep, but when he set the pants on Draco's trunk those silver eyes flew open and looked at him.  

"Thanks."

"Sure."

"You better eat.  We've got a bit to do today."

As Harry sipped at a bit of pumpkin juice, and ate his breakfast, he couldn't help but think of how fast this had happened.  Yesterday morning he had woken up in his tiny three room apartment on the ratty old couch that the last tenant had left.  He had showered in cold water merely because there was no hot water.  The only heat in the entire house came from the stove in the tiny kitchen, and he always feared it might set fire to something in the night.

He had spent the morning and afternoon working as a waiter at a normal café, earning minimum wage at best, and had to deal with the constant dirty remarks from the customers in order to get his tips.  He spent half of his evenings working at the Red Heel behind the bar, and then the other half performing- sometimes at clubs, but most of the time at the Red Heel.  He'd eat the few bits of food in his tiny little kitchen, and curl up on his couch alone in his apartment, waiting for the next day.

And all of a sudden he was face to face with Draco Malfoy, and dragged back to the Wizarding world.  It was sad to think he woke up in a nicer place than his apartment, ate more food than he had eaten in a week, and had spent the night without nightmares.  He wasn't really sure if he was lucky or not.  Sooner or later he'd have to reveal himself to the world, only to be swarmed with questions and praise.  Praise he didn't want.  It would be nice to see Ron and Hermione again, but would they ever forgive him for leaving?

Would anyone forgive him?

"Are you done?"

"Yeah."

"Grab the cloak; we've got to check out."

Harry shrunk his trunk again and stuck it into his pocket with his wand.  He pulled the cloak over himself again, moving up the hood once more.  Draco had shrunken his own trunk, setting it in the pocket of his trench coat, which he draped over one shoulder.  Harry didn't know what to think of Malfoy.  They had once been worst rivals- they had once done anything to cause misery to one another.  But now…now he was just Harry, and Draco was just Draco.  They didn't have it in them to fight.  So instead, Draco took to teasing him.

He had to wonder…

A/N-  I used to offer choices on what the next chapter was going to be like, but now that I actually have a plot in mind (imagine that!)… Sorry.  And I hope you liked the smut.  Consider it my gift for the crummy chapter before this.


	6. Divination

AN- Okay, I realize my last few chapters have been a little, um, well…really confusing.  I know what's going on because I'm thinking of it, but I can't seem to get that down in the Fanfic, so…

After the big fight with Voldemort (Chpt. 1) Harry left Hogwarts in the middle of his seventh year, but didn't tell anyone where he was going (not even Hermione and Ron).  He disappeared into the muggle world, and has been staying there while working odd jobs.  So Draco goes out the night of the anniversary of his parents' deaths to sort of get away from it all, and he sees Harry.  (And this is where I think most of you are confused).  Draco is working for someone in the Wizarding world that wants to find Harry, so when Draco sees Harry he knows he has to bring him back with him.  If he doesn't, that person will find out (you'll see why later) and try to bring Harry back by force.

So why did Harry go along?  Well, it's kind of his character to not ask why he has to.  And he also knew that once he was seen by another Wizard (or witch) again he'd be brought back to the magic world one way or another.  So he decided to make things easy and go along with Draco.

Oh, and don't worry Miss Lesley, Harry will get his share in of bossing people around (oh no, spoilers bad!).  And he has always had this 'oh great, another order, better do it' sort of attitude (though that changed in book 5, didn't it?).  But I promise that he'll stop following orders soon.

Next Chapter!  (And if you're still confused, tell me!  I want you to get it…)

After seven years of isolation from the magic world can leave one forgetting how bloody crowded Diagon Alley was in the summer.  Harry hid under the hood of the cloak, almost clinging to Draco's back so he didn't get swept up in the crowd.  He had his wand on him, but it had been years since he used any spells besides the shrinking one he used for his bags.  If he were to end up in Knockturn Alley where the less-than-friendly wandered…

'I can't believe I'm fallowing Draco around of all people!  Destiny really is a bitch.'  He stumbled a bit as a stout little witch rushed past him on her way towards Eeylops Owl Emporium.  Students rushed past them in new robes, books tucked under their arms and various spells being shouted out into the air.  He saw an old looking wizard staring at him closely, and he ducked behind Draco, pulling his hood farther down.  'Please don't let me be seen.  Please don't let be seen.  Please don't let me-'

"Come on."  Harry rushed ahead to fallow Draco into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.  He didn't know why he was going clothes shopping with Malfoy, but he didn't bother asking.  He was annoyed enough without having to deal with his sarcasm.  Despite he had gotten the best sleep of the last seven years- even if he was curled up around Draco Malfoy- he wanted nothing more than to be working that odd shift at the café or tendering at the Red Heel.  He was frightened to return to Diagon Alley, to be truthful.  Once he had loved this world, had loved the noisy of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, had been captured in the peace of Hogwarts, but now…

"Pick out something already."

"What?  Malfoy, I'm not helping with your fashion statements."

"Not for me you bloody idiot!  You need robes."

"But I don't have any money on me.  I'll need to run to Gringott's."

Draco rolled his eyes, and lent down to whisper to Harry so that the store occupants couldn't hear them.  "Do you want to be seen?"  A shake of the head.  "But you have your key?"  A nod.  "And don't you think it would be a little strange for some hooded stranger to walk into the bank with your key?"

"Oh."

"Can I help you gentlemen?"  Madam Malkin stood as short as always, having traded her mauve robes for lavender ones, but her smile was just the same.  Except for the new wrinkles around it, and the stray gray hairs that fell in front of his face.  "Mr. Malfoy, how great to see you again!  Came for the usual battle robes?"

"Not today, thanks.  I'm shopping for a friend of mine."  He jerked a thumb back at Harry, who cowered under the cloak.  He did not want to be seen… "We were going to look for some basic robes, a few cloaks and some comfortable casuals."  He glanced back at Harry, eyebrows creasing together before he turned back to Madam Malkin.  "Perhaps something in emerald green.  Do you still have that robe with the gold lining that was here last time?"

"You're lucky; a new one just came in today!"  The plump little witch wandered behind the counter to grab her robe.  Without being able to trace where it had come from, Harry saw a gorgeous robe of green silk float into Draco's arms.  The buttons were plain mother of pearl, but he saw the gold within the robe.  Satin.  The hems were bordered by silver thread.  It looked expensive.  

"Perfect.  Can we get a dressing room?"

Malkin led them back, and opened a drape to a small little dressing room while Draco picked up a few robes that would explain why they'd need the room instead of trying it over normal clothing.  With a gentle push, Harry was rushed into the room with him, and the curtain snapped shut.  It shimmered with a locking spell.

"Here."

"But Draco…"

'Oh shit.'  Gray eyes turned to him, a blond eyebrow raised in question.  A familiar grin had fitted itself on pale lips.  'Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…'

"Get undressed already."  Though the comment had slipped past without note- well, verbal note- suddenly another was thrown in Harry's face.  He blushed, trying to keep the same thoughts that had plagued him this morning and the night before from surfacing.  Draco was having the time of his life.

Determined not to let Malfoy's ego to inflate any farther, he didn't complain.  He simply turned his back on him, and removed the cloak.  After stripping down to his boxers, he took the robe that Draco handed him.  It was gray, made of some soft fabric he couldn't identify.  No, it wasn't gray…when he shifted it, it turned color.  Iridescent, like the cloth was made from pearls; with the exception that it was very light.  He slid it on, and was a little disappointed when it was too big.

"_Parvus minor minimus_."  Harry gasped as he felt the robe contract around him until it fit snuggly.  He turned, looking at Draco in question.  A roll of the eyes.  "Small, little.  Latin, you ought to learn it- most spells are in Latin."

He glanced back to the mirror.  It clung to his upper body a bit tightly, but not unpleasantly so.  Though the buttons stopped at his belt line, the ends trailed past to surround his legs.  He'd have to wear pants under it, obviously.  It was gorgeous, beautiful, breathtaking.

"Can't I just settle for something simple?"  Draco rolled his eyes again.  They went through a variety of robes, including the green and gold one.  Draco had to reduce each one to fit Harry, grumbling the entire time about how skinny Harry was and how he should put on more weight.  Harry ignored him, a skill he had adapted so as to ignore everyone else in his life.  After he dressed and replaced the cloak, they went to pay for it.  He stared in wonder at the price, wondering why his ex-rival would do this.  Draco didn't bother to look at the price, he just handed the gold over.

And then purely by chance Harry glanced up and caught sight of the calendar behind Madam Malkin.  August 2nd.  August 2nd.

"Draco!"  He hurried to catch up with the blond, not even realizing he had yet again called him by his given name.  Draco waited for him, the typical cynical expression on his face.  "Firstly, thank you.  Secondly, it's August 2nd!"

"Yes, Potter, it is.  Are you feeling alright?"

"I have a show tonight!  I have to go!  That talent agent will be there tonight, and this is Maggie's big chance…she might even be the new bass play for-"

"Whoa, wait.  I can only process things when someone makes sense."

"- and they're counting on me, I have to be there!  We're playing that new song, and…"

He continued to allow the once Gryffindor to babble on.  Though he didn't doubt Harry's intelligence, sometimes the brunette was a little…eccentric.  He focused on Fortescue's Ice cream Pallor and realized how hungry he was.  Grabbing Harry's hand, he pulled the surprised boy through the crowd.  

"Make you a deal, Potter.  Let me buy you some ice cream, and we'll go get ready for this concert, 'kay?"

"Uh…"

Draco really didn't have to look that hard to see the nervousness practically pouring off Harry.  He was pacing alongside who Draco guessed was Maggie, the woman bass player.  The drummer and guitarist were leaning back against the wall, looking a little calmer but not much more so.  The air was thick with anticipation, and the noise of the concert dome was loud.  Screw loud, it roared like a female Dragon whose egg had just been broken open by something.  The other band was warming up, and Harry's band was the introduction group.

To say the least, it was either up or down from here.

He wanted to say something, strangely enough.  He debated between saying some cheesy inspirational thing to Harry, or just yell at him to stop pacing.  He decided to say nothing and lean back against the wall so his dizziness didn't over take him.  Instead he watched the crimson see-trough shirt and black pleather pants Harry wore dance back and forth.  To the Malfoy's great surprise, Harry was wearing make up, and had replaced his glasses with contacts.  There was a silver cross around his neck with a rose wrapped around it.

"Divination, you're up!"  Draco nearly fell over in surprise when he heard the name.  He saw Harry look at him, fright taking over those innocent eyes.  Despite himself, he gave the boy an encouraging smile.  He was worried.  A dome concert- there was bound to be at least one wizard or witch in the crowd even if it was a muggle band.  It made both of them nervous, but Maggie meant more to Harry than keeping himself hidden.  

And Draco had begun to notice the stress getting to Harry as the concert grew nearer.  He didn't want to set off the boy's anger- he had a strange feeling he wouldn't get out of it unscathed.  So he went along with Harry.

"Okay, let's go."  It was barely a whisper, but the band members heard it over the crowd.  Divination filed onto stage, taking up their instruments.  Harry stood in front of all those people, one hand on the microphone and its stand, eyes closed.  Whether it was from anxiety or an act was anyone's guess.  The band began, bass striking up a few solemn notes.  They had hired a keyboard for the show, and it added in a few sound affects as the drums began.  The guitar stood aside, waiting.  This song belonged to the bass and keyboard, not the guitarist.

  
_Laying on your holy bed  
by the hallowed door  
Feeling like an infidel  
Not worthy of your call  
Tempted by your innocence  
Beckoned to my fate  
I won't face the consequence  
I wouldn't hesitate  
  
I'm a man of flesh and bone  
Rapture  
Rushing through my veins  
Passion  
Flaming  
In my heart  
Heavenly surrender once again  
Yeah  
  
Shackled like an animal  
Chained to my desires  
Just another sacrifice  
To love's eternal fight  
Tame me with your tenderness  
And break my brittle heart  
Easily and elegantly  
Tear my world apart  
  
I'm a man of flesh and bone  
Rapture  
Rushing through my veins  
Passion  
Flaming  
In my heart  
Heavenly surrender once again  
Yeah  
  
We're living in a world full of illusion  
Everything is so unreal  
My mind is in a state of confusion  
But I can't deny the way I feel  
  
I'm a man of flesh and bone  
Rapture  
Rushing through my veins  
Yeah_

The song was sexy, slow but far from gentle.  Draco's eyes stayed constantly on Harry, as did those of the entire crowd.  He glowed under the lights, each movement a shimmering caresses of air.  His cheeks were slightly flushed, not from embarrassment, but almost from ecstasy.  The stage embraced Harry like a lover, and Harry shown this pleasure out to the crowd.

All too soon, and the other band took over.  Draco's gaze remained on Harry as Divination returned back stage, and he didn't even realize it.  Harry ducked his head, a secret smile hidden from all but Draco, and slipped from the room to go get changed.

Their ride back to the Leaky Cauldron was quiet.  Maggie had disappeared with the talent scout after the concert, and the other band members stayed to hear the news.  Harry had pulled Draco to the car without a word instead.  He didn't question why, he just drove them back.  After running the seventh stop sign without looking, Draco decided to break the silence.

"Do you have anything else planned for the rest of the year?  Appointments?"  A shake of the head.  Draco paused, trying to figure out how to phrase this.  "Look, I don't want you to be found out by anyone even if you go shouting through Hogsmeade nude.  But I can't keep quiet while you're with me, and I won't be able to lie if you go back to the Muggle world."  Harry nodded, he knew.  Sooner or later, the truth would slip out and then Draco would be hated by the magic world again.

Even Harry didn't wish that on him.

"So I'll have to come with you.  But where?  I mean, do you work for the Ministry, or for some organization?"

"I work at Hogwarts."

"What?!"

Draco cringed, jerking the wheel so he didn't swerve and glanced over to the passenger seat.  Harry's eyes resembled tea plates they were so wide.  He nearly smiled at the sight, if his ears hadn't been pounding in aggravation.  They pulled up to the Leaky Cauldron, and Draco leaned back against the seat after turning off the car.  

"I'm the Potions teacher since Severus got the DADA position."  Harry did smile a little bit about that- since hearing that Snape was a spy for the order his hatred toward the potions master slowly disappeared.  He remembered that when he came to after the battle with Voldemort, Snape was in the bed next to his.  His robe arm was rolled up; dark mark bleeding under layers of bandages- it had to have been painful.  

But Snape had lifted his other hand and given him a thumbs up with one of his small smiles.  Seeing something so normal, so real on the man's face had changed everything.  He was happy that Snape finally got what he wanted now that he was free of Voldemort.

"So you're going to bring me to Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

Without being able to explain it, Harry got out of the car and slammed the door after him.  It wasn't Draco's fault, but all of sudden anger bubbled with in him and rose to the surface.  The other monster, the only evil in the universe that had rivaled Voldemort.  The sneaky, conniving old man who twisted people's lives without a thought.  The one who had controlled Harry's life from the beginning- the one who delivered him to the Dursley well aware of their abusive nature.  The one who threw him out in front of Voldemort, threw him out to face death.

Without comprehending what he was doing, he stormed into the Leaky Cauldron.  His cloak was in the car.  The entire Inn stopped, frozen in silence as the boy savior stormed in, fists clenched and fuming.  They said nothing as he stormed up the stairs, staring after him.  No one fallowed.  They were still wondering if it were an illusion.

Harry recognized he didn't have the key.  He flung himself against the wall in frustration, and then slid down it.  His eyes blurred and a familiar burning sensation wove its way around them.  He was cold as he leaned against the wood and slowly slid down the floor.  He wasn't really thinking.  Pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head on them, he cried out his irritation, his rage. 

He remembered seeing a pair of familiar black boots, felt someone pick him up, and then blacked out.

AN- That song Harry sung is called Surrender by Depeche Mode.  Again, if anyone wants the mp3, it really is a sexy song.  Hope this chapter is okay (it seemed a little weird even to me…)


End file.
